


The Hidden Grove

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan [45]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, So much angst, that god damn scene in Crestwood, the thing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment has arrived. Solas is ready to confess everything to Isii. He takes her to a special place, a place where they can be alone, where he can share this important moment with her. </p><p>And that's when he knows he has to end it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hidden Grove

**Author's Note:**

> You knew we'd get here eventually. Covers how the scene in Crestwood happens in Isii's canon. There's a heavy mixture of in-game and original dialogue in this one.

Seeing the temple once more, walking through those halls – it brought back harsh memories that were difficult to process. Thoughts of the last time he’d been there, the moment that pushed him toward the downfall of everything he held dear- his course had seemed so clear back then.

If only he had known.

Solas withdrew from the others when they returned to Skyhold. He needed time to himself. Time to think. Despite her invitation, he did not visit Isii’s quarters that night. She accepted his explanation that the journey left him feeling drained, that seeing a precious and preserved piece of Elvhen history desecrated in such a way upset him. It was not untrue, not entirely, but it was not the reason he pulled away from her.

Seeing Abelas and the other sentinels, branded and bound, still enslaved all these centuries later, still forced into their never-ending servitude – that was what troubled him the most. The remnants of something he had so despised; the knowledge that others must still be out there, still suffering the same fate, suspended in a mockery of uthenera without the peace an eternity in the Fade could grant them. These thoughts drove him. They reinforced his purpose, reminded him of all those who suffered from his actions on both sides of the conflict. He had failed them once. He could not do so again. He’d allowed himself to become distracted in the recent months, allowed himself to dream of what could be if he abandoned his cause.

There was no other path for him. He had to remember that.

She found him the following day in his study. He was staring at the wall, loosely sketching the next addition to his mural when her arms wrapped around him, her lips lightly caressing his neck. “You’re drawing the temple?”

He nodded solemnly. “The Temple of Mythal was extraordinary,” he said, pausing his work to turn and face her. “In all my journeys, I’d never dreamed of finding anything like it.”

“I know how you feel,” she said, smiling. Her face was bright and full of wonder, her voice hushed with awe. “It was… incredible. And to think there are elves who still live from before the quickening, elves who remember Arlathan, who could give us back our history.” She paused, her smile widening. “It’s more than I ever could have hoped for. If I could get one of them to trust me, to speak to me…. The things I could learn from them…”

The corner of his lips quirked slightly. “Perhaps such a thing is not so far out of your reach.” He paced toward his desk, setting his charcoal down as he dusted off his hands. She watched him curiously as his gaze fell to the floor, his brow lowering.

“You look troubled.”

“I am,” he answered calmly. “The fate of the Vir’abelasan worries me.”

Her head tilted, her face stitched with concern. “Do you think I should have taken it instead?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, you were right to be wary. Drinking from the Well would have bound you to Mythal – a fate with implications I do not think Morrigan fully grasps. Your instincts have done you a service.”

“Then what is it?”

He paused before fixing his gaze on her, his voice firm as he spoke. “What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?”

She thought a moment before answering. “We can’t go back to the way things were. The Chantry and their Circles have more than proven that and our people deserve a better fate – Dalish and city elf alike. When this is over, when Corypheus is defeated, I would use whatever power I have to try to help this world move forward.”

“You would risk everything you have in the hope that the future is better?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

A sharp crease formed across the bridge of his nose as his brows tightened. “What if it isn’t?” he snapped. “What if you wake up to find the future you shaped is worse than what was?”

“Then I’ll try again,” she said simply. “Fix my mistakes.”

“Just like that?

“Just like that,” she said confidently. “What else could I do, Solas? Give up and act like it’s not my problem anymore?” She slipped her hands into his, giving them a firm squeeze. “If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.”

He looked down at their joined hands, his face relaxing into a quiet smile. “You’re right,” he murmured softly, his eyes meeting her own. “Thank you.”

Her head tilted, brows lifting. “For what?”

“For being you.” The smile that spread across her face was radiant, though she did not fully understand his appreciation. He cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb tracing the curve of her vallaslin. “You have not been what I expected, vhenan. You have impressed me in ways I could not have anticipated. You have offered hope that if one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grave, that someday things _will_ be better. You do not know what a comfort that is to me.”

She placed her hand over his, turning her face to kiss his palm before he drew away. “Forgive my melancholy,” he said softly. “Corypheus has cost us much. The Temple of Mythal did not deserve such a fate. The orb he carries and its stolen power – that at least we may still recover. With luck, some of the past may yet survive.”

The corner of her lips lifted into a smirk, her brow arching as she slid her hands onto his shoulders. “You’re being grim and fatalistic in the hope of getting me into bed, aren’t you?” she teased.

His smile was understated yet undeniable. “I _am_ grim and fatalistic,” he murmured quietly. “Getting you into bed is just an enjoyable side benefit.”

She giggled, the sound rippling softly through her. “Is that so? Nothing but a side benefit?” She drew closer, brushing the tip of her nose along the side of his, their lips almost meeting. “Perhaps I should try harder next time,” she whispered before kissing him. She was gentle, caressing him with soft, wet lips, her arms slipping into a comfortable embrace. He held her to him, humming into the press of her mouth, relishing the warmth of her body against his own. She was everything he had ever wanted, more than he had ever dreamed possible. Her mind was so much like his own, her values so perfectly aligned. In his position, he truly believed she would follow the same course. She would understand what he must do if she knew the truth of it. She would believe in him, support him, want to help him see it through.

That thought lingered as she pulled her lips from his. He knew her mind, knew her heart well enough to know what he had to do. He’d always intended to wait until the orb was within his grasp, but he knew it wasn’t necessary. She would accept him. He knew that she would. She deserved the truth.

The look on his face left her perplexed, her smile not dissipating. “I didn’t think my kisses were that thought-provoking.”

“There is something I have been meaning to do,” he began, “something that is a long time coming. Not here, though.” He settled his hands along her waist, a subdued smile on his lips. “There is a place I would like to take you, if you would come with me. A short journey. A few days at most.”

She peered up at him, curious. “What’s this about?”

“I’d rather save that discussion for when we’re there.”

She grinned, chuckling. “You have some sort of surprise for me?”

“You could say that.”

She kissed him again, a briefer press and yet no less enjoyed. “For you, anything. We can leave tonight if you wish. I simply need a little time to get ready.”

“Take all the time you need.”

* * *

 

They travelled by mount to speed their journey. He spent his nights inside of her, her desire as vast and insatiable as his own. Her body was a comfort, a place where he felt whole, connected, alive. He listened to her heavy breaths and imagined that soon another name would be whispered by those lips.

He practiced his confession in his mind, envisioning the various outcomes, trying to maintain his optimism as they drew closer to Crestwood. _I am afraid I have not been entirely honest with you. It was never my intention to hurt you. You know me, but you do not know who I am, who I have been, my life before the Breach. I tell you this because I love you. Because you deserve nothing less than my complete honesty. I do not want to purchase a life with you with little more than my deception._ His apprehension grew, his stomach tight with worry. Still, he had faith in her. She trusted him. She loved him. She deserved to know the truth.

The moon was full and bright as he led her up the path, passing the statue of Fen’Harel. She looked at him skeptically as they neared the rocky outcrop. “The wyvern cave?”

He chuckled softly, offering his hand. “Trust me, vhenan.”

She peered at him, a curious smile on her lips as she slipped her hand into his own. Darkness consumed them and for a time he could see little more than her outline and the gleam of her eyes reflecting what little light remained. The warmth of her hand anchored her to him.

Trickling water heralded their arrival, calling them closer as the light pooled ahead of them. He watched her face as they stepped out into the enclosure, as her eyes brightened, scanning the peaceful setting. Ghilan’nain’s guardians watched over the hidden grove, ancient sentinels of stone still as impressive as they day they were created. The air was cool and damp, catching the gentle mist stirred up by a collection of small cascading streams. Together, they created a soothing waterfall set among lush leaves and soft billows of fog. The Veil was so thin that the air felt almost as it had in ancient times, magic causing a subtle prickling on his skin. It was far more comforting than he could put into words. If he so chose, he could allow himself to imagine that he was back there, in another time, in another world, with her at his side.

Her silence was serene, her hand tightening gently against his, shifting to lace her fingers with his own. Solas took a breath, trying to steel his nerves. Even as fear began to bubble up toward the surface, he was determined. He would not be swayed. He’d never loved anyone the way he loved her. He wanted nothing more than for her to know him as he truly was. He was done with carefully crafting his words, dancing around subjects to avoid hidden truths. He wanted to drop the façade, to let her in, to allow her to know his mind fully. He wanted to be completely open with her.

“The Veil is thin here,” he said softly, breaking their silence. “Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?” She turned to face him, an amused smile pulling her lips as she peered at him. Her beauty was truly breathtaking- moonlight pooling in her hair, casting silken streams of silver through shades of cream. He could not help but stare, his senses overthrown. He touched her cheek, brushed his fingers along her vallaslin, caressed her as he committed her to memory. He wanted to preserve this moment in his mind, this calm before the potential storm. _No. Don’t think that. She is better than that. She will accept the truth._

“I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me.”

She ran her hand along the back of his, holding it to her skin. “That’s not necessary, Solas. You’re my…” Her eyes drifted through her hesitation, searching a moment to find the words. Realization made her smile deepen as she pressed a kiss into the base of his palm. “Ma uthlath,” she whispered. The word was honey on her lips. She’d been so happy when he first called her that. _My eternal love_. Overjoyed, even though she could not comprehend the full depth of his meaning. “The gesture is appreciated, vhenan, but you don’t have to prove yourself to me. I know what we mean to each other.”

“The best gift I can offer is the truth.” He lowered his hand from her cheek, curling her fingers around his own. “You are unique,” he said softly, smiling. “In all of Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade. You have become important to me. More important than I could have imagined.”

“As you are to me.” The love she felt for him was undeniable, written across her features so plainly that he could lose himself in its depths. Her hands tightened around his own. She smiled.

“Then what I must tell you,” he began. “The truth.”

He paused, his stomach sinking as he stared into her face.

He couldn’t do this.

What if he was wrong? What if she learned who he was and rejected him? That was how he had always envisioned it, was it not? He would be a monster in her eyes, an evil god, a creature from her nightmares. She was a First, trained to be a Keeper. It was her duty to distrust him. What then? She would not let him anywhere near the Inquisition. He would no longer be permitted to offer aid, no longer be allowed to fight at her side, no longer be able to use the Inquisition to retrieve the orb. She knew the artifact was important to him. If she learned who he was, if she grew to fear him, there was no telling what she might do. Would she simply fight to keep it from him or worse yet- would she destroy the orb in some misguided attempt to keep him from ever getting his hands on it?

Her brow lifted, head tilting in concern. “Is something wrong?”

He had to think of something. Something else. Something to say. “Your face,” he deflected. “The vallaslin.” Perhaps it meant he was a coward, but he could not do it. Not now. Not when he stood to lose so much. He’d felt unwavering certainty in his decisions before – when he betrayed his kin, when he gave Corypheus the orb. He had been so sure of the outcomes and yet his foresight could not have been more flawed. Perhaps he was deluding himself now as he had then. He could not risk it.

“In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen things,” he continued. “I have discovered what those marks mean.”

“They honor the elven gods.”

“No,” he said firmly. “They are slave markings, or at least they were in the time of ancient Arlathan.”

He watched her expression drop, horror and disbelief stirring in her eyes. “What?”

“A noble would mark his slaves to honor the god he worshipped.” The words came automatically. He was sharing a truth, though admittedly not the one he had intended. “After Arlathan fell, the Dalish forgot.”

“So this is… what? Just one more thing the Dalish got wrong?” Her voice wavered, a tight crease forming between her brows.

He watched her, his gaze shifting uncomfortably. This wasn’t what he’d planned on saying and it hurt to watch her eyes begin to water. “I’m sorry.” 

She lowered her gaze, letting out a heavy breath, trying to steady herself. She was clearly trying not to cry. “We try to preserve our culture, and this is what we keep?” she asked, lifting her gaze. “Relics of a time when we were no better than Tevinter.”

“Don’t say that. For all they got wrong, the Dalish did one thing right.” He squeezed her hands tightly in his own. “They made you.” She tried to smile but she was shaken, unsteady, the corners of her lips tightly pursed. She shifted between her feet, uncomfortable and he pulled her closer, anchoring her with their joined hands. “I didn’t tell you this to hurt you.”

“I know,” she whispered, keeping her eyes down.

“If you like, I know a spell. I can remove the vallaslin.”

She looked uncertain, studying his face. “If what you’re saying is true…”

“It is.”

She cast her gaze aside, considering a moment. “My people vowed never to submit to slavery,” she said firmly. “I’m no one’s slave and I would not have my face marked as one.”

His hands slipped to her waist, holding her closer. “I’m so sorry for causing you pain. It was selfish of me.” He lifted her chin with his finger, offering a reassuring smile. “I look at you and I see what you truly are – and you deserve better than what those cruel marks represent.”

Her expression slowly lifted, a tentative smile on her lips. “Then do it. Take the vallaslin away.”

He smiled despite himself. She trusted him so entirely that she would abandon something she had once held so dear to her. She did not ask for proof. She did not demand further explanation or throw it back into his face. He knew this was not easy for her. He had not intended to make an issue of the vallaslin because it was something she considered as part of her identity. What difference did it make in this world where slaves were no longer identified in such a fashion? Yet he could not deny that he had always wanted to have her markings wiped clean, to see her with the face she truly deserved.

“Sit.”

He guided her and she followed without hesitation. They knelt together beside the gleaming pool, the rippling water steady in its rhythm as he pulled from the Veil. He lifted his hands and she surrendered to them, tilting her chin as he brushed his palms over her face. Light danced across her skin, illuminating it as he watched the curving boughs that had so defined her features melt away. Gone were the lines that dipped into her lips, snaked along her cheeks, wove across her brow. They fell away as if they were nothing, markings that had been so painful to receive leaving her like a gentle caress. Her eyes opened slowly, meeting his.

He’d never loved her more than he did in that moment.

“Ar lasa mala revas,” he said with a smile. “You are free.”

He could not help but stare as he helped her up, taking in her features. He wanted to drink her in as she was in her purest form, as she had always meant to be. She seemed shy under his gaze; a rare trait to find in his vhenan. Her eyes flitted away from his only to return, her cheeks warming as she touched them, ghosting her fingers across her skin as if she could feel the missing brand. Her smile grew and she let out a soft, humming laugh.

He pulled her closer to him, tracing his thumb along her jaw. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. The words were worship on his lips and yet woefully insufficient. He could never hope to fully express how she made him feel, how precious she was to him. His eyes darted to her lips and they parted, ready for him. Her kiss was blissful, gentle. Her arm wrapped around his waist, tugging gently at his belt. He cupped the curve of her backside, pulling her closer until her body was flush against his own. He wanted to lose himself in her warmth. He felt her relax against him, lapping slowly at his lips, her free hand sliding up to the back of his neck. It was a singular, perfect kiss.

When he pulled away, she looked up at him, eyes open and trusting.

In that moment, he knew it had to end.

He had nearly lost himself to the dream he’d found in her, nearly sacrificed everything he had worked towards, everything the People needed from him, all for the sake of his own happiness. She was his weakness, the thing that pulled him from his course, that made him want to risk it all in order to be with her. Even if he could control himself, even if he could continue to live in this lie until the orb was safely in his hands, what then? What if everything he had hoped for came true and she accepted him, chose to follow him? How could he ever expect to keep her safe? How could he live with himself if he put her life at risk once more, leading her straight into danger just for the sake of his own selfishness? This dream, this delusion, this idea that she could walk by his side was a false hope, a lie he told himself to justify giving into his impulses. If he let her follow him, he would destroy her. When he released the others, when his kin returned to this world, they would want to make him suffer. No amount of caution on his part could guarantee his own safety. If he was alone, perhaps he could elude them, buy himself some time, draw them into a chase. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But if she followed him… if he led her right to them…

She could see the change in his expression, the heaviness in his eyes. It worried her. Her head tilted, her brows lifting. “Vhenan?”

He knew his kin. He knew how they thought. If they wanted their revenge, they would try to take everything that mattered to him, everything that he loved. They would destroy her in order to punish him.

That was a mistake he was not willing to make.

“I’m sorry.” The coldness of his own voice hurt as it passed from his throat. It sounded distant, separate from himself. “I distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.”

Her arms were still around him, her brow furrowing. She didn’t understand. Of course she didn’t understand. “Solas-”

“Please, vhenan.” He shrugged away from her grip, stepping back. He kept his voice level, tightening his mask. _This has to be done. Do it quickly. Do not let the blade linger._

Her eyes searched his face, her arms lowering slowly, still halfheartedly reaching for him. “What are you saying?”

“I should not have allowed our relationship to progress as it has,” he said firmly. “I should never have pursued you. It was a mistake.” 

“A mistake?” The word wounded her. Her brow tightened, her head tilting. “Solas, what is this?” He said nothing. _It is what I should have done long ago._ She looked for an answer in his eyes, her breaths growing tight as realization slowly washed over her features. “You’re leaving me?”

“Yes.” _Cold. Matter-of-fact._

She shook her head. “You can’t,” she said quickly. “I won’t let you.”

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Please, let’s…” Her throat clenched. She cleared it, trying again. “We have to talk about this.”

“There is nothing to discuss.”

She stared at him, shocked, her eyes watering. “You can’t be serious. Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said, taking another step back from her. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said sharply. “I can’t accept that. There’s something else, some reason you’re doing this-”

“Isii-”

She closed the distance between them. “I’m not giving up on you, Solas.”

“You truly should.” He tried to move away but she pursued, gripping his sleeve.

“Talk to me,” she pled. “Tell me what you need. Anything you want, I’ll do it. Whatever it is, whatever this is about, we can work through it together.”

“No, we can’t,” he said. _You make promises I cannot let you keep, vhenan._ “You’ll see.”

He stepped back but she tightened her grip, grabbing the front of his tunic. Her eyes were glistening now, full and wet, her voice lifting in pitch. “Please, Solas. Let me help you.” He shook his head but she only pulled herself closer, her hands cupping his jaw on either side. “Let me in, vhenan. Talk to me. Tell me what this is.” He grabbed hold of her wrists, his chest tight as she pressed forward, bringing her lips to his. He remained stiff, his body rigid as his cheeks grew wet, her tears falling as she felt him refuse to return the kiss. She stifled a sob against his mouth and he felt sick, his stomach churning. He never should have done this. He never should have touched her. He never should have given into his feelings, shown his interests. He knew better. He knew how this all would end. He knew it from the beginning, but he’d been a fool.

She was shaking as he pulled his mouth from hers, her hands still clutching him, her forehead pressed to his own. “Don’t do this to me,” she begged. Her voice was weak, the words quivering as they fell from her lips.  “Please. Not now. Ara sal’shiral, ma nas’falon, sathan. Ar lath ma. Tel’ha’lam’shiras em. Sathan, vhenan.”

He released her grip on him, trying to stop his voice from wavering. “You have a rare and marvelous spirit.” The words wouldn’t come easily because they weren’t the ones that he wanted to say. That he loved her, that it killed him to do this but there was no other way. “In another world…”

“Why not this one?” she sobbed.

“I _can’t_.” He was struggling to hold himself together, to keep any sense of composure. _Please, just let me go._

Her eyes narrowed. “Is this what you brought me here for? To take away the last thing that made me Dalish and then end it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that!” she shouted. “Stop saying you’re sorry if you don’t mean it!”

“Isii-”

“What was this to you? Just some sort of game to pass the time?”

“No.”

“All those things you said… all the times you said you’d love me forever, that you’d always be there for me… Did that mean _nothing_ to you?” She was seething now, glaring through her tears. “Or were you just sitting there laughing to yourself because it was so easy to make me think you were serious?”

He brought his hand to her cheek, shaking his head. “You know that’s not true.”

“Then why?” she whimpered, gripping his hand. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m sorry. But it has to be this way.”

Her face twisted, her jaw clenching. “Bullshit,” she shouted, ripping his hand away. “That’s _bullshit._ I’m not just some dream you can wake up from, Solas. I don’t just disappear when you’re done with me.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me you don’t care.”

His face fell. He felt pitiful. Helpless. “I can’t do that.”

“Tell me you don’t love me!” she screamed, hitting him in the chest. “Say it! Say it, Solas!” She shoved him hard, causing him to step back but she pursued. “Say you never loved me, that I mean _nothing_ to you!” She struck him again, hands slamming into his chest and he took the blow, retreating as she broke down. “You were so comfortable lying to me before, so why not now you coward?” His back hit the edge of the enclosure. “Tell me so I can call you a cold-hearted son of a bitch and move on. Tell me so I can hate you!”

He caught her wrists as she moved to strike him again, shaking his head. “Vhenan, stop,” he whispered.

“Don’t you ever call me that again,” she spat at him, ripping her hands away as if his touch was venomous. “Not that you ever meant it to begin with.”

“I did,” he said, his voice catching, his eyes growing wet as he tried to steady his breaths. “Every time.”

She glared at him, shaking as her tears fell freely, her bare cheeks stained. “Find your own way back to Skyhold, harellan,” she said, turning on her heel.

The word struck him hard even though he knew it was well deserved. “Isii, please-” But she did not stop for him. Why would she? What reason did he give her to ever listen to him again? He’d seen hatred in her eyes when she glared at him, earned because he had betrayed her trust. He had promised her everything and left her with nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. She didn’t even slow her pace, disappearing into the shadows beyond the grove.

He tightened his hands into fists to try to stop them from shaking, struggling even now to hold his composure even as there was no one there to witness. His chest ached, hollowed and raw. He’d found a dream in her, something he had always craved, something he knew he could never have and yet he let himself give into it. He let himself pretend that things were different. That he was not the man he was. That he could keep her by his side.   

He struggled to take a deep breath, letting his weight fall back against the stone behind him. He had to do it. He knew he had to. He’d known all along. But all the rationalizations in the world could not lessen the agony of knowing he had destroyed everything that had grown between them. He felt as though he’d ruined his one chance at happiness. But there was no going back. The People needed him. They had to come first.

He told himself that even as his eyes closed, teeth clenched as tears pressed onto his cheeks. He shook silently, trying to fight them but it was a losing battle. There, isolated, alone once more, Fen’Harel could do nothing but let go, the crash of cascading water masking the sound of his shaking breaths.  

He was a fool. A selfish fool.

He should have known he could never keep her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ara sal’shiral - you are my life’s journey.  
> ma nas’falon - my soul mate.  
> sathan - Please.  
> Ar lath ma - I love you (as I’m pretty sure we’re all familiar with now.)  
> Tel’ha’lam’shiras em - Don’t abandon me.  
> Harellan – betrayer, trickster, traitor


End file.
